


Priorities

by kathkin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Fluffy Smut, M/M, PWP, gay married in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 16:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3576342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie finds it odd that the Doctor takes more issue with swearing than with buggery. The Doctor fails to see the inconsistency. They discuss this during the act, so to speak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Priorities

“ _F-fuck_ ,” Jamie stuttered. He ground his heels into the sheets and pushed back as the Doctor’s hips jerked forward, sliding still deeper into him.

“You really _do_ have a foul mouth,” said the Doctor, a breathy edge to his voice. He nudged Jamie’s legs wider apart and leaned down, planting his hands firmly on the pillows. “Mmm. I shall have to keep you quiet.” His head dipped forward and he kissed Jamie softly, a strange, gentle counterpoint to the fierce, hot pressure of his cock in Jamie’s rear.

“Mmph,” said Jamie around his lips. “Will you – _mmph_.” The Doctor’s tongue slipped into his mouth. Jamie wound his hands into the Doctor’s hair, clutching at him, kissing back hotly. 

“Will I what?” said the Doctor, pulling back just enough to speak.

“Will y’get _on_ with it,” Jamie said, their mouths still touching.

“Like this?” The Doctor’s hips rolled in a deep, slow thrust. Jamie groaned into his mouth.

“Aye. Like that.” He squeezed his eyes shut as the Doctor thrust into him again, and again, his hands still tangled in the Doctor’s hair. The Doctor kissed him quickly, making his breath hitch, then turned his attention to his neck.

“Y’know,” Jamie said, the Doctor’s lips working at his pulse-point. “I think your priorities are off.”

“Really? How so?” The Doctor sounded truly concerned, his voice uncannily steady given the position he was in.

“You dinnae have a problem with buggery,” said Jamie. “But y’scold me –” His breath hitched as the Doctor’s tongue pressed behind his ear. “– you’ll scold me if I swear durin’ the act.”

“I fail to see the inconsistency.” The Doctor thrust sharply. Jamie grunted. “I happen to dislike flagrant abuse of the English language.” He cupped a hand about Jamie’s face and kissed him again.

“Aye, but you’ve nae problem flaunting God’s laws?” The Doctor snorted out a laugh against his neck.

“Swearing,” he pronounced between fond kisses, “shows a lack of creativity of speech – and thought – and I’d ask you to kindly desist.”

“You’re a funny wee man,” Jamie said, suppressing the urge to whimper at every slow thrust. “How am I supposed to think – _creatively_ ¬ – while you’re buggering me?”

“And another thing.” The Doctor sat back on his haunches, pulling out as he did so. Jamie whined. “I’ve asked you before not to call it that.”

“What, buggery?” The Doctor’s hands slipped beneath him, lifting his hips off the bed.

“Yes. _That_.”

“I’m just calling it as it is.” The Doctor’s cock was nudging up against him. He rolled his head against the pillows, reaching back to grip the rail that ran along the bottom of the bedspread, bracing himself.

“It’s just such an ugly word,” the Doctor mused, pressing slowly forward, sliding back into Jamie, drawing a moan out of him.

Whatever retort Jamie might have had, he was robbed of it as the Doctor’s hips jerked, thrusting into him with enough force to make the bedstead rattle against the wall. “Mother of _God_ ,” he gasped out. “Oh, Lord have mercy.” The Doctor squeezed his thigh and began to bugger him properly, deep and powerful.

“Mmm,” he said. “Now blasphemy I take no issue with. Feel free to blaspheme to your heart’s content while I make love to you.”

“Aye, as I said,” he was starting to get breathless, struggling to cling to the thread of conversation with the Doctor – doing – _that_. “Priorities.”

“No, no,” said the Doctor. “I’m still not seeing the problem.” With that, his hand dropped down between them, closing around Jamie’s cock.

“Ah,” said Jamie, losing his tenuous grip on his train of though. “ _Ah._ Nngh.” The Doctor’s hand clasped tighter, squeezing and stroking him firmly, with that perfect twist to his grip that never failed to – he closed his legs tighter about the Doctor’s waist, shoving back against him. His head thumped against the pillows, his grip tightening on the bedstead, his knuckles whitening. “Fuck,” he choked out. “ _Fuck_.” The Doctor clucked his tongue in disapproval, but he was too far gone to care. He mouthed the word to himself, his eyes screwed tight shut as he – “ _Fuuuck_.”

His grip upon the bedstead slackened, his whole body going lax. The Doctor was still thrusting into him steadily, one hand pressed to his chest. “You never learn, do you?” he said, gazing down at Jamie with a fond look in his eye.

“What were we talking about?” said Jamie muzzily. He scraped his damp hair out of his eyes and sighed, squeezing the Doctor’s hips between his thighs, urging him on. He reckoned he could come around again before they were through.

“Honestly,” the Doctor went on as if he hadn’t spoken, picking up the pace. “If you keep on like that I shall have to gag you.”

“Aye, if you like.” Jamie tugged at the trailing tails of the Doctor’s unfastened shirt, pulling him down for another kiss.


End file.
